Pontormo

Mike: Look up thread a bit for references to cheeses from Lazio. I posted a few and I am pretty sure a link was added. Of course, living where you do, you have access to the best sources of an education; I am sure cheesemongers will be willing to help you out. When you pick up a copy of Downie's book--which is the source of most of the things I've been making too--look in the back for businesses he recommends. Of course, Sardinia produces many great sheep-milk cheeses, but Pecorino Romano is from Lazio; I am partial to Locatelli, but they're all good. * * * Fettuccine alla Romana is the dish I prepared for Easter, primarily because it is the closest I could find to a Roman ragu. Since I do not celebrate Easter and because it is an extremely substantial--and costly--dish, I considered it my primo and secondo. Downie provides a great deal of information in one of his most in-depth recipes, mentioning that because the sauce is time-consuming, it is not often found on menus even though it does remain traditional in Roman homes for both Sunday or the day after Easter. I suspect there are other reasons for its lack of currency, especially since it is such a robust heavy primo that speaks more of a chill in the air than budding trees and twittering birds. Also, he notes that recipes change over time; once chicken livers dominated and now they're only one of FIVE meats. To me, that speaks more of Fellini's Satyricon than even the joys of ending the penitence of Lent, so I cut the list to three. Chicken livers would have added a substantial depth to the sauce, but they're not a favorite, I confess. The tomato sauce requires a more generous amount of celery, carrots and onion than other ragus, garlic, then pork sausage, beef short ribs and ground pork (and beef, which I omitted, merely upping the quantity of short ribs). Red wine is used instead of white, then pre-soaked porcini plus their liquid (chicken livers should be added here). Lots of tomatoes are added and the sauce is left to cook for around two hours. Pecorino Romano is mixed with Parm Reggiano. Yesterday, I ate it with dried pasta and then had a wonderful fresh salad of baby organic greens from the farmers's market--my first visit since Thanksgiving and surrogate for church. Cara-Cara oranges were tossed in along with plenty of snipped chives. In between, I actually ate the short ribs on their own with some of the sauce and cheese since both were delicious. Downie recommends removing the meat completely from the bones, mincing it and tossing the bones. Instead, I left a little meat on them and browned them for a long period of time, leaving them in the pot to enhance the flavor as the tomatoes simmered. Thus, I sort of had a secondo if a redundant one. Dessert was a Macedonia di Frutta whose flavors had been merging for hours and hours. As wonderful as it was, the sauce was much, much better today on fresh fettuccine.

If you're not familiar with the names involved, here's a handy link: Celebrity Profiles. Note the ad for Country Crock to the right: "Spend more time at the table than at the stove."

Your cheesemonger and my cheesemonger should duke it out metaphorically speaking, since I think Kevin at Tenleytown is one of the best true food professionals working for local WF stores that I've ever spoken to at any length. Let me add that I got to the market late, looking for only two things. The watercress reported on the FRESHFARM web site turned out to be a tiny handful, maybe an ounce or two, of the hydroponic type that doesn't ring my Easter bells especially at $3 a bag. There is talk elsewhere of the morels going for $14 a box, or about $2.45 each. Someone splurged and should be reporting on them soon. This was my first trip back to the market since Thanksgiving. I had gotten used to picking up whatever ReadyPak salad mix was on sale at the supermarket that week. They were fine. The bags of mesclun sold by Heinz Thomat of Next Step Produce reminded me how different perfectly fresh organic baby greens can be. One eGullet member has mentioned how tired this once trendy mix has gotten in restaurants. I know what she meant. However, these things that we in the US label as trends really are incredibly late arrivals of what has long been available in Western Europe. What has become tired in this country is the concept of the food trend. We should have more and more varieties of these wonderful small tender purple and green leaves, bundled individually for patrons to pick and choose. In the meantime, Heinz's mesclun was wonderful in a simply vinaigrette with snipped chives and slivers of one of the last of the Cara Cara oranges on the third shelf...another sign of the transition from one season to another as us pagans would say.

Mike, I too am happy for you and your family. Kevin, I will try your method for making bacon into a type of guanciale. Sounds like a good idea. I'll add a short report on Fettuccine alla Romana, a very rich dish that I was surprised is associated with Easter and the following Monday, or Angel's Day, some time soon. However, I'll take advantage of what seems to be a breach in regional authencity to report on the following: I mentioned preparing fried zucchini coins, Roman style, according to David Downie's recommendations. I loved the addition of white wine vinegar and red chili pepper flakes and look forward to our journeys to regions that prepare hot, spicy foods even though I'd stop well before Mario Batali's threshold. One of the reasons I chose to drain the zucchini first is that I prepared several pounds to reuse them. Saturday, I incorporated them into a frittata with some of the Cacio di Roma in the fridge as well as plenty of scallions, some Locatelli and Parm Reggiano. I wish I had looked again at Downie since his frittata recipe includes fresh mint which would have been a welcome change. I love zucchini, that is the small, dark green ones available now, and all the interesting globual and pale green variaties that local farmers will be selling in the market come summer time. I don't quite understand all the jokes about gardeners sneaking zucchini onto porches of unsuspecting neighbors, except for the fact that overgrown, pulpy squash are not all that tempting. Elie inspired me to buy Romaine lettuce to use for an accompanying salad. In turn, a question posed to Brad Billlinger encouraged me to continue to drink Tuscan wines instead of bothering to seek out anything new from Lazio in the remaining two weeks. I have to admit, rather guiltily, that the very best use of these Roman coins was impromptu Tex-Mex I cooked a thick strip of bacon and then warmed up a wedge of the frittata in the bacon fat. I tucked these into a warmed flour tortilla which happily accepted grated Cacio di Roma while in the cast iron skillet. Mixed chives into sour cream. Poured on a little smoky salsa and folded it over. It was incredible I promise my next post will be strictly orthodox.

Sandy: You promised I could ask the Big Question, but Chufi beat me to it! Here's my wish list: 1) A special trip to the Italian grocers and merchants that you mention every so often. Lots of pictures and information, please, if so inclined. 2) You wrote about a former haunt of LWL. If there's anything there to show us, that would be nice, too. 3) A trip to the Swathmore cafeteria(s) or places students eat. Maybe snapshots of what they're buying to eat on the run or a few Man on the Street/Quad candid interviews about eating habits. Of course, the latter may not be a good idea given the nature of your job. However, in 2005 the NYT published an article about some college dining services and moves toward purchases from local farmers, promoting more healtful diets and/or responding to student demands for meals that fit their dietary preferences. etc. It would be interesting to see how your school relates to this trend.

Along those lines, feeling similarly, I have a related problem more than a question. Background first. One of my closest friends in high school was Jewish Italian-American, the daughter of a much older scholarly father and a very warm mother; her older sister went to the CIA after college and was a truly gifted cook. Her challah...! I was honored to be invited to Shabot dinners and therefore would like to make one Roman Jewish meal before the month is over. My public library had one of the most highly recommended cookbooks, a compilation of all of Edda Servi Machlin's publications, Classic Italian Jewish Cooking, issued just last year. There is no index for regions, though every once in a while there are references to Rome, for example, for the semolina gnocchi that Chufi mastered. There are very interesting recipes for sfoglietti, a type of pasta that is made from special flour produced for Passover. Once the noodles are formed, they are baked to conform to kosher laws concerning leavening. I may try them, actually. BUT the thing that I would like to know is why there are recipes for things that are familiar to us all, such as pesto, or salsa arrabbiata. I wish there was just a little more information about the origins of these dishes than is provided. Are they included in the book because Italian Jews are Italians and dishes overlap? Just how early did the cooking of Italian communities spill out of the ghetto? Is the symbiosis or exchange between mainstream Christian and Jewish culture so complex that it is impossible to tell? It would be interesting to see if scholars of Jewish history have their own early Martino di Comos or anonymous authors of early cookbooks. The problem is that most of these dishes are what might be classified as home cooking as opposed to the stuff set out in banquets at powerful courts and therefore featured in the earliest cookbooks. If the diaries or account books of early Jewish families survive, there might be historical information there. Postscript: This post is being edited because the cookbook does answer some of the questions, if briefly, and I suspect the author is more than capable of elaborating were there a long-standing tradition to integrate historical and cultural information into the prefaces of individual recipes. Just one tidbit: Fennel and eggplants were a part of Jewish diets before they were eaten by other Italians. Edda Servi Machlin cites Pellegrino Artusi's The Science and Art of Eating Well (1910) on the subject, i.e. a remark concerning the scarcity of either of these vegetables in the Florentine markets back in 1870s since "'...they were considered the vile foods of the Jews; the latter offering evidence here, as in more important issues, of having, better than Christians, a flair for discovering good things.'"

Yes, we're all getting a little punchy here in Rome, aren't we? Funny story, too, Hathor! I REALLY look forward to hearing all about your first time cooking and eating fresh artichokes, Mike! Most people go with steaming or boiling and dipping leaves in butter and lemon, or cold, garlic mayonnaise their first time and do little else. It's really a treat to hear that your virgin experience will be the Italian way...and all Giudia is perfect now that it's Passover.

For the loser, there's another 80th birthday party that might need a chef.

As the tartars descended on the town of Vladimir in 1408 and black and white, I dined on the following: Pollo in Padella, or a basic sautee of chicken seasoned with an abundance of minced rosemary, bay leaf, and some garlic and onion. I used a French white wine, but figured it was from Gaul. See Foodman's picture, only substitute thighs for his range of parts. Concia di Zucchine which I prepared by salting and draining and drying them first, frying them until very golden, encircled with brown. This I do all the time, but not as Downie recommends with a generous splash of white wine vinegar and peperoncino; in this case, I used a bottle of Vietnamese chili garlic sauce, figuring all roads lead to Rome. The potatoes were simply boiled and smashed to soak up all the wonderful winey onion sauce and all that basil-flecked olive oil. After witnessing the torture of his countrymen, pillaging, plunder, rape and spears thrust into the bodies of fallen horses, and as smoke rises among the ashes within the cathedral, Andrei Rublev has a vision and speaks to the painter, Theophales of long ago: "How long will this go on?" he asks. "Most likely, forever," is the reply as his vision lifts his hands to the frescoes that surround them. "But look, look at all this! Isn't it beautiful?" The actors spoke Russian, but it all seemed very Roman to me.

See those beautiful glazed tea cakes, the loaves propped up between the second and third cards on the top of the case? Man, oh man are they ever AMAZING!!!!!!! The richness of the butter is just right. The lemon? ummmm.... And something else, but what could it be? ...so I've been told .

Reading today's contribution to this series, posted shortly after Henry Lo's food blog, got me thinking about the relationship between food and architecture, again, and the ways that the visual arts, first, and now, culinary arts have relied on intellectual arguments to increase their prestige, moving from the baser connotations of "craft" to the elevated realm of "Art." One of the strategies critics and scholars use to persuade others that the arts are not a rarified thing to be contemplated from a distance is to point to their immediacy: how they create a sensory experience for the beholder or the audience. In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, a heated debate ensued concerning the superiority of sculpture or painting. In his contribution to the Paragone, Leonardo claimed painting for the dominant role, in part, because a painter wears nice clothes without fear of getting covered in marble dust (this is before Pollock) and listens to music. No loud hammering. No calluses either. Nowadays, sculpture might be favored since it IS so tactile. Sensory experience garners greater respect. Students read about the history of the body and not simply the life of the mind. Architecture's even better than sculpture for sensualists since you are engulfed by the work of art when you enter it. You're consumed by space. You're the food and the building is the stomach. You see, you feel, you hear if standing, say, in the circle that Philip Johnson built into his addition to the museum at Dumbarton Oaks and your voice resonates. You taste, smelling incense, if a pilgrim taking communion in a side chapel of a great medieval church, or if you're Hugh of Lincoln on a visit to Vezeley where you take a bite out of the monastery's most prized relic, the alleged body of Mary Magdalen, so you can bring it back to England. It should be noted that in the great experimental utopian movements of the past century, some of the best artists in theater, music and the visual arts joined together to create all-encompassing sensory experiences so that arts were a part of life and not this marginal thing to be visited at a museum or concert hall from time to time. Bauhaus and De Stijl. Arts and Crafts. The teapot and toaster of Michael Graves look back to such movements as their legacy. Getting back to food as sense and art: in order to gain greater respect, does greater reverence for the artistry of today's great chefs have to be tied so tightly to wealth and the class system? El Buli does wonderous things for those who can afford them. That was the case for Leonardo and remains true even for Frank Gehry who favors concrete, cardboard and chain link fencing over marble and bronze. Here at eGullet there is lots of good, enthusiastic talk about inexpensive treats. Crisp apples. Pizza. However...

Hear, hear, without knocking York since its Corpus Christi liturgical drama is extremely important. Wells is stunning and I'm sorry, but a pilgrimage to Canterbury is in order at least once. However, Durham represents the Norman English contribution to the development of Gothic architecture and has amazing columns in the nave, so dramatic that at least one scene of Elizabeth was shot there even though the location makes no sense. Make sure you take the tour of the Bishop's palace since it begins in the kitchen. There's also an excellent little cookwares store in town where you can find aprons and sundry linens from Her Majesty's preferred textile producer in surprisingly bold patterns. The oven mitts make a wonderful gift for friends in the US since no one here produces anything like them: padded mitts for left and right hands that are connected by a length of fabric. If you do change plans and go to Durham, while in London, check out the new British Library where some of its most important manuscripts are on display for the general public. My favorite of the Hiberno-Saxon works is often in the case, The Lindisfarne Gospels that were found in the casket of Saint Cuthbert of Durham. Afterwords, you'll find a few wonderful little independent shops to stop and have tea, or if I remember correctly, cappuccino at a very Italian place. I fear straying too far off-topic, but also endorse your plans to see at least some of the countryside. I loved the moors, visited with a Bronte-loving parent. Some of the megaliths and other types of weird mounds and odd stones down south are interesting; I believe Stonehenge is a little more accessible these days than it used to be and might be worth a detour. Also check out John Whiting's food blog for lively food markets if you haven't read it.

Hey, I'll send you some fava beans if you tackle some guanciale for mail-order next! Another on the pancetta, too, Man!

Austin: Yes, I know that cilantro & coriander are the same thing. Cf. original post. The reference to roots threw me. Paula Wolfert offers explicit instructions in one recipe calling for spinach stems and roots. In the ingredients list for a Turkish stew she specifies length of stems and in Step 1 of the recipe's text, she is very explicit about the way the bunch of spinach is to be handled, including trimming the roots, cutting "each clump in half (without separating the stems from the root base)..." For someone not used to using roots of herbs in recipes, who associates the word "roots" with the tough, fibrous stringy material at the base of the plant, just a little more specificity and/or description would be useful. If you use the roots in a number of recipes, maybe an appendix in the back would be helpful.

N.B. The Dupont Circle market will be held this upcoming weekend even though it's Easter Sunday. New arrivals include aSPAraGuS and WatERcreSs

Daniel: Speaking of travel reporting... Henry: You manage to make even the most humble buildings and rows of grape vines look like stupendous works of architecture. Really, the photography both you and Lorna provide really makes this thread a real pleasure. You two prove how much a strong affinity for one's subject makes for a great picture Thank you!

I think the anchovy sandwiches are easier to make if you pour the polenta in advance. At least, the time I made them, I had deliberately made extra polenta one night and spread the remainder on a wooden cutting board to solidify, using it the next day. That said, yours look sensational, a savory version of something Patrick S might bake. I decided to make another recipe from Downie's book called Spaghetti con Fave, Lattuga e Pancetta since I was happily surprised to find fresh fava beans from California at the grocery store earlier in the week. I removed them from their skins since they were a little bitter. Bright, bright green, buttery and delicious as a result. I highly recommend the dish, sometimes known as spaghetti con la scafata and associated with spring. I used trenette instead of spaghetti as per suggestion and regular bacon instead of pancetta along with Boston lettuce which I had never cooked before despite seeing recipes for lettuce soup, etc. over the years. Does anyone know anything about the usage of the word "trenette"? I had a box of "artisinal" trenette from Abruzzi (no longer the original $7-$8 since the store was discontinuing the item) that look like elongated, slender penne, only triangulated. However, every image on a google search was of a flat, narrow strand; one entry says the word is unique to Linguria whereas everyone else says linguine. At any rate, after the pasta with fava beans, I drank a glass of Chianti.

Actually, I forgot I made this earlier in the week. I used to make it with olive oil all the time (a Moosewood recipe) and love it that way. However, the past few times, I have been using his method, down to toasting and crushing Tellicherry peppercorns. I can't say I like it better, though it's good to have something drier if the next course has a lot of sauce or fat. They're different.

Here's the link for "Ladies Who Lunch" since the one Fresser posted doesn't seem to be working. Credit is due its author, Karen Resta. Many of my favorites are already stated, and I believe Kevin Dowling has been applauded for his own nerdy New Year's Resolution and subsequent "Year of Italian Cooking". However, I'd also like to draw your attention to the lively debate that ensued on Let's Discuss Italian Ragu.

Great idea for a thread! What a wonderful looking dish to use as a first test case I second the comment about kaffir lime peel. Kaffir lime leaves are more readily available here in the States, and those are not always easy to find. I'd like to know where your book will be sold since vocabulary may be a problem, too. It's easy to figure out that a capisum is a bell pepper when there's a photograph. I also know that we use "cilantro" whereas most of the English-speaking world says "coriander". However, I am not sure if you're literally referring to the roots of the plant that are sometimes cut off when the herb is sold in bunches. Do you mean the entire plant, not just the leaves---or remove the leaves and use what remains? Or is there a globular root vegetable that I have never seen, akin to what is called "beetroot" everywhere else except the States?

So glad you enjoyed the vegetables at French Laundry, Lorna!

The anchovies are cooked with garlic and capers until they melt. The sandwiches are dipped in an egg batter. Also really good with these are round tuna fritters made with potatoes, ricotta and lemon zest (same book).

Heavens! Sounds rather sticky. Thank you for the report. Some of us have been cooking from a book that recommends using Frascati or Marino in cooking, substituting the dryer white wine for the traditional Marsala. Everyone's meals look delicious and the raw purple globe artichokes are beautiful. Klary, the baby artichokes are very common in Italy and they have been available in the States for at least a decade, I believe. That's what I used last night. Trimming's a breeze and as Kevin mentioned, there's no choke. Thus, I just split them in half--since they were not as tiny as they can be--and the entire thing became tender when cooked. The smallest ones are great in risotto.

Well, after all this time simply posting information, mostly about links and responding to beautiful things you have made, I finally got around to cooking Roman food myself. All the pictures of artichokes and saltimbocca got to me. I really had wanted to find a good modest-sized piece of lamb to substitute for suckling lamb, a Roman specialty that online sources say is rarely available in either the States or the UK since it is not profitable to slaughter a tiny little thing not yet weaned when more meat can be produced after it's lived a more substantial life. Memories of the amazingly tender, subtle Icelandic lamb that appeared for the first time last fall also turned my attention to baby cows instead. Intrigued by the non-traditional folded packages Batali and you all produced, that's what I did instead of the customary rolls. I grew up in an Italian-American neighborhood where these were made with Marsala and slivers of Fontina. I did prefer the simple savory version with sage leaves, white wine and no cheese. I made one extra to tuck into a panino tomorrow. The lamb would have better for the contorno, but I also enjoyed a dish of baby artichokes fricasseed in an eggy lemon sauce with fresh chopped mint and parsley. After, I had a wedge of Cacio di Roma with fruit. Exploring new cheeses has been fun. Finally, Chufi, let me add that I had intended to try my hand at semolina gnocchi, too. Your gratin looks wonderful.

Wow! First Mexico, now this...thanks for report, Doc & Molto. FYI: Visual evidence no longer survives, but I wonder if your Documentary Photographer of Shoes might be The Seattle Bon Vivante whose masthead used to be a view down to her embroidered pink pointy-toed shoes. (See comments concerning this visual detail on the linked entry.) Ling & Henry, I look forward to your further contributions.